User blog comment:Llamao/Embrace of the Viper/@comment-2006360-20110621180656/@comment-2006360-20110622021050

Oberyn shakes his lance, his veil ruffling. Aye, my Lord. I may have caused the deaths of eight hares by a single thrust, but I daresay that feat cannot be repeated again. My tribe is ready once more to serve you. Twoscore weasels with veils, robes, recurve bows, and arakhs walk behind Oberyn.